The Knight In Shining Leather
by slenderpanda597
Summary: Martina isn't too fond of Halloween. She doesn't mind it, but she can't see what all the fuss is about. Unless somebody can change her point of view...


(a/n - excuse this. Some Halloween procrastinating.)

The Knight In Shining Leather...

Martina rolled her eyes. Whose idea was this? She reached over for a file, brushing what seemed like half a tonne of fake cobweb off her desk in the process. Honestly, who had thought that this was a good idea? It would be a nightmare to clear up. She slumped forwards, then realised that she couldn't even do that effectively, as the pointed witch hat balanced precariously on top of her head hit the partition. Martina growled. When she found out who decided to decorate the DHSS for Halloween she would murder them. Preferably by wrapping a vampire cloak around their neck. Martina could honestly not see the positives of the whole fandango. It wasn't that she had anything against Halloween, for Martina couldn't care less if people wanted to spend their money on commercial crap that never got used again, whilst cleaning up the sick of small children who had eaten too many goodies gained whilst trick or treating (not from her door though, Martina didn't believe in giving things away, as her clients well knew). It was bringing Halloween into work that Martina had a problem with. When she had found the notice explaining that she would have to wear a costume to work on October 31st Martina had internally screamed. Especially when she saw the additional notice of 'those who do not bring a costume do not worry, there will be spares you can change into at work'. Martina had decided that she would rather buy her own than wear something rescued from a dead aunt's dresser. Anyhow, if she had bought it, she could burn it afterwards. Might save the gas bill in winter, seeing as she had to pay her way honestly. Unlike those Boswells. Martina placed her hat back upon her head and glared at the seats. She had already received one too many witch related comments. Her glare had gotten colder and colder as the day progressed.

"NEXT!" she shouted.

"Greetings!" a voice sang at her. Martina closed her eyes and groaned.

"Oh no, it can't be. The most fearsome monster of them all. Surely it cannot be here in front of me. Though I hear the gold clinking, smell the expensive aftershave... It must be..." Martina gasped "a Boswell!" she opened her eyes. There he was. The bane of her existence.

"The one and same," he grinned. "How are you, Missy Martina?" he tweaked her hat. "Looking lovely today." Martina felt a little strange as she noticed his eyes run up and down her form from the other side of the counter.

"I was going to come as a Boswell, though I couldn't afford the Jag," she quipped. He laughed. Oh, that laugh.

"Well, as it happened, I am in costume anyway!"

"As what?"

"I, am a knight in shining leather!" he declared proudly, " here to whisk you away in my trusty Jag!"

"What are you on about, Mister Boswell?"

"Since you clock of in," he checked his designer watch, "4 minutes, I thought I would rescue you from the perils of public transport. Don't want a witch like you causing a crash by distracting all of the old men, do we?" he winked. She raised her eyebrows.

"I do not look lovely, Mister Boswell."

"You do, I am positively melting whilst looking at you. Really emphasises your tit...eyes! Really emphasises your eyes, that dress..." he trailed off. He had nearly said the complete wrong thing there.

"And where would you take me?"

"A private little Halloween party?"

"Private, you say, Mister Boswell?"

"Yes, a witch and a knight, together..."

"Well then, Mister Boswell... How could I refuse?"

"You're agreeing?!"

"Of course, I can turn you into a frog when I've found out your eveil schemes... Put a curse on you." she grinned.

"You've already put a spell on me," Joey muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing! Come on then," he smiled. Martina grinned and stood up, smoothing down her dress and straightening her hat.

Perhaps Halloween wasn't too bad, afterall.

(a/n - forgive me this piece of utter tosh. Please. I just needed to do something that wasn't revision. I shall face the consequences later...)


End file.
